Burned 2 (2 page)

Chapter
3

The ride to the theatre was uncomfortable. I was nervous about meeting Ethan’s parents. And after my supposed boyfriend suggested hiding how we meet, my hands were sweating like they were made of ice and melting. I had questioned why Ethan would date me all these time and this request really threw me back into the puzzle-pickle jar. I was drowned in confusion. I didn’t even think of something to say to Ethan to fill the silence. Maybe he meant what he said. He wanted his parents to have a good impression of me because he cared about us. Yeah, he cared. He brought me chicken noodle soup when I was sick. He wouldn’t do that if I was just some random girl he picked to keep him company. I smiled at the thought.

I turned and take a peek at Ethan who sat steadily in the driver seat. He turned to me at the same time and caught my gaze. He smiled at me and the smiled reached his eyes like it was a natural reaction for him-he looked at me and he smiled. Was I the reason of his smile? I would be happy if I really was. I had never imagined in my life that this could happen for real-a gorgeous hot guy driving me to a Royal Ballet show. Was I dreaming?

“I am glad you are coming with me, Dana,” Ethan reached for my hand
with his right hand while driving with his left hand.

“I am glad, too,” I held his hand and locked my fingers to his, pressing our palms closed together. I was becoming greedy about the touch. But the warmth from his palm was irresistible. I had the urge to remind him that driving with one hand on the wheel was not safe. But I couldn’t choose between holding his hand and safe driving. I wanted to enjoy the feeling of holding my boyfriend’s hand. To feel his warmth, to be connected and we didn’t have to say anything to know that we were with each other. I felt relaxed and content now. I wouldn’t mind for this drive to take forever as long as Ethan could hold my hand this way.

The drive didn’t take as long as I wished. We parked in the deck near the Grant Theatre and walked toward the building. The theatre we went to rested in downtown. Having lived in this town for two years, I had yet to have to opportunity to go there. None of my friends were interested in watching a play or musical in the Grant Theatre. I could understand their reasons. Tickets of the Grant Theatre were not really affordable to students. After all, who would spend money to buy a ticket at Grant Theatre when they could get at least ten movies ticket in an average cinema for the same cost?

We walked toward the front door of the theatre. The door automatically opened and the golden world inside the theatre revealed. The theatre was covered with sophisticated red and decorated with large oil paintings with beautifully scrupled golden frame. The light from the huge crystal chandeliers on the ceiling caught my eyes and I was dazzled.  Ethan offered me his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman and I took it as gracefully as I tried to be. We walked in and the golden light reflected on my skin. Everything was growing. Walking on the red carpet, I felt like I was living in a movie. In this scene, I was not the college history major Dana who tidied books at the student store. I was someone else dressing in silk and accompanied by the most gorgeous man in the crowd. Yes, Ethan was definitely the most gorgeous man in the room here. Everyone in the waiting area of the theatre was at least thirty years older than us.  And by default, we caught the old ladies and gentlemen’s attention as soon as we walked in.

All right, no more panicking. I am going to pretend that I am the queen of England,
I told myself, keeping my back straight. I gripped Ethan’s arm a bit tighter and walked down the carpet. I made eye contact with one of the old ladies who stared at me. I tried to nod and smiled at her with grace and it worked. She nodded and smiled back. I hadn’t received any eyes of disapproval like I did in the mall last time so far. I assumed that was a good sign.

Walking ahead, I saw the second most gorgeous man in the room-the man who looked like Ethan with winkles, John Lancaster. He stood tall among the crowd. Having seeing his photo on his law firm’s website, I recognized him immediately. The way he gestured with his hand when talking to the acquaintances and the way he held the champagne glass were conducted with such demeanor of a superior. This was the billionaire with power over the globe. This was the man who had stood in the
important courts and made history. This was the father of my boyfriend. My heart was going to beat out of my ribcage. I could hear it beating loudly. I was stepping closer and closer to him and the seconds were stretching into minutes.

Ethan’s father just finished talking to an old gentleman
, and as he turned, he noticed Ethan. His brows suddenly gathered like he spotted an imperfection on an otherwise magnificent painting. I wondered what that expression mean. I thought a father would always be happy to see his son.

John Lancaster’s eyes shifted to me. I struggled to
walk normally. I really hoped that I was appearing to be at least decent. As Mr. Lancaster saw me, His eyebrows went slightly upward and slowly the corners of his mouth went upward, too.

“Dad,” Ethan stopped about six feet away from his father and stood stil
l. I stopped with him, still having my hand gripping his arm. “May I introduce Dana, my girlfriend?” Ethan said to his father and looked at me like he was giving me a cue or something. What was I supposed to do now? I stiffened.

“Ah, this is Dana? I was wondering who this lovely young lady is,” Mr. Lancaster chuckled and extended his hand to me. “John Lancaster, nice to meet you,” he was making direct eye contact with me. Making eye contact with such a brilliant and accomplished person made my nerves jumpy. I had the urge to look away but I learned from my communication class that I should keep eye contact and smile when I shook people’s hands. So I stretched my mouth and appeared to be smiling while I kept staring into his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Lancaster,” I let go of Ethan’s arm and quickly grabbed his father’s hand.

When I let go of Mr. Lancaster’s hand, he laughed, rubbing his right hand with the other. “Oh, Ethan, your girlfriend is quite the bone-crasher.” Ethan laughed with him.

I looked at both of them back and forth, not sure what I had done. Ethan got closer and whispered in my ear, “he meant you were shaking his hand too hard.”

Modified, I apologized in a hurry. “I am so sorry, Mr. Lancaster.” Just this one time I got to shake hand with one of the world’s best lawyers and I had to crush his hand. Darn! I blamed all those judo classes. I had to break a three-inch hardwood board with my hand on my last black belt exam. Apparently my hand was much stronger than my mentality, because right now I really wanted to sprint and hide under the thick carpet I just walked on.

“No worries,” Mr. Lancaster was smiling. “A strong handshake means you can get things done,” he nodded at me. “And please, call me John.”

Ethan’s father was kind, I thought. He talked to me like I was one of his peers. His smile was genuine and his eyes shined with wisdom. “Okay, John,” I smiled at him more naturally this time.

“Here, let me show you,” Mr. Lancaster extended his hand to Ethan and gestured Ethan to shake it. Ethan complied. “Look,” John said to me. “When you shake someone’s hand, you will hold out your palm perpendicular to the ground,” he showed me how he positioned his hand. Then he took Ethan’s hand. “When you shake their hands, making sure the crotches of both of your hands are connected,” his tone was patient, like my old high school English teacher. But his conducts were professional- even he was just shaking his son’s hand. He was serious about teaching me this handshake. “Make sure you shake from your elbow and give just enough strength, it needs practice,” he demonstrated with Ethan and patted him on the shoulder. “When Ethan was in high school, we practiced handshakes every day so his is perfect now. Good times!” He nodded at Ethan.

As his father chuckled, Ethan’s head tiled to the side and he looked at the ground. He chuckled and smiled at his father. It was such a shy boyish smile as if Ethan was a teenager receiving a hard-earned compliment from
the elders. I had never seen him smiled like that. I always thought he was hot, sexy and cool. I never knew he could look so cute.

“Ethan is so lucky to have a father like you,” I said to Mr. Lancaster. I was still in awe to see Ethan, the Prince of Bad-boy Smirking, being an obedient son in front of his father.

“And now Ethan is lucky to have a sweetheart like you,” Mr. Lancaster winked at me. Like father, like son! They both sure knew how to make a girl blush. I felt my cheeks burning with the compliment. Now I was smiling the same way as Ethan. Ethan held my hand and squeezed it, pulling me closer to him.

“Where is mom?” Ethan asked. I just realized I haven’t met Ethan’s mother yet. I was
so nervous to see Mr. Lancaster. I almost forgot about his mom.

“She had to powder her nose,” Mr. Lancaster shrugged and looked toward where I assumed must be the restrooms.

Ethan and I also looked toward the same direction. Ethan waved as several people came out. I stretched my neck and got a clearer look. The woman who waved back at him was absolutely stunning. I would assume Ethan’s mother would be at least in her forties but this lady had the physique of someone in early thirties. Her hair was the flawless blonde and I could see where Ethan got his thick shiny hair from. She walked so gracefully as if she was floating on water. The long silver dress she was wearing embraced her curves. If Ethan thought I was elegant, then his mother was the ultimate of elegancy.

As Mrs. Lancaster walked closer, I approached her for an expected handshake. I had to be gentle this time-not wanting to crush Ethan’s mother hand like I did to his Dad.

“Ethan,” Mrs. Lancaster opened her arms and hugged her son gently. Ethan had to bend his back a bit to hug her. She looked tall and outshined the crowd from far away. Up front, she was a petite lady. And she was a hugger! I stood and waited, debating with myself. Should I shake her hand or go for the hug? Did she only hug family and not strangers? What if I gave her my hand and she intended to hug me? Why was meeting parents so awkward?

When Ethan introduced me, Mrs. Lancaster scanned me from head to toe and from toe to head. All right, it looked like she was debating about
the hug-or-handshake thing as well. I stood there waiting for her decision, not daring to move. Finally, she decided-she opened her arms and came for a hug.

“Nice to see you, Dana,” she patted my back as she hugged me.

“Me, too,” I said as I tried to suck in air. Now I was the one being crashed as Mrs. Lancaster squeezed me tightly.

“Where did you find such a beautiful girl, Ethan?” She asked after she finally let go of me. I froze the second I heard the question.
My gosh, Ethan found me on the Internet. Now I understood why Ethan was concerned about telling them how we met. I didn’t think these formal people with high regards would trust anyone from the internet. Still, I never did well with hiding things and lying. My palms started sweating again. If she was addressing the question to me, I would be freaking out right now.

“We go the same university, mom,” Ethan said with ease. I stood still, processing what he was doing. Clever bastard! We did go the same university and his parents could just assume we met in a university event or the student gym or something. He told the truth and avoided the question.

“Wonderful!” Ethan’s mom exclaimed and examined me from head to toe again. It seemed she approved my look at the very least, given that her smile didn’t drop the whole time she scanned me. “That’s a nice necklace,” she commented.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said politely. “Ethan picked it out actually.”

“Excellent,” she patted my arms. “A lovely girl like you deserves the best things. If you want anything, just ask Ethan to get it for you.”

I looked at Ethan and gave him the is-she-for-real look. And Ethan raised his brows and gave me the she-is-very-real look. Great, we were talking with eyebrows now. I turned back to Mrs. Lancaster and gave her an awkward smile.

We had some chat about the university and several gentlemen and ladies came by to say hello. Mr. Lancaster introduced me as his son’s girlfriend. I had more chances to practice handshakes. My back was stiffed the whole time I stood there, fearing my posture was not graceful enough. I felt the need to look nice and be elegant, standing next to Ethan’s beautiful family. I knew that I, a mere college girl from a suburban town, normally wouldn’t be standing here. But as Ethan warped his arm around me and shielded me under his wing, I felt the strength to not freak out and be intimidated.  We were a couple. We stood as one. I could pretend to be the princess as long as my prince was with me.

After a while, I got more settled in
to the fancy social scene. I didn’t imagine that watching a ballet show would be like this-so much going on before the show even began. When we went inside to get seated, Ethan pulled me over and whispered, “They really like you.”

“Really?”
I looked up at Ethan with wide eyes. Even he was whispering, he sounded so excited. He was grinning so wide and looked so cheerful. I couldn’t help but grin as well. I was happy that the meet-the-parent part went well. I was even happier that Ethan was happy about how things were going. I was living a dream. Everything was too good to be true.
Please don’t wake up
, I told myself.

The staff in the theatre led us to our seats. I had no idea that we had our own balcony right by the stage. I saw four chairs in the balcony
, and fresh fruit and champagne on a table. No popcorns? What a bummer, I mused. Of course I didn’t expect popcorns to be in a ballet show. After all, this was a classical form of art.